Let Me Go
by SilentSpeaker13
Summary: Years after Atemu has left for the afterlife Yuugi continues to be haunted by the presence of the former pharaoh.  Angsty puzzleshipping.  One-shot.  Rated for mentions of sex and some light cursing.  R/R, enjoy!


**AN: Lookie, lookie, another story! Disclaimer: Psst, I still don't own Yu Gi Oh! or its characters and I still don't make money off this stuff.**

**Alrighty, to give credit where credit is due, thank you Coldplay because this song was inspired by listening to the song "Violet Hill" one too many times...even if the lyrics that inspired this were actually the wrong lyrics (oops), oh well.**

**More angsty puzzleshipping, but happy stuff will come out soon, cause the angst needs a break cause I'm actually a happy person. Not completely sure about how I feel about this one, but c'est la vie!**

**Read and (hopefully) enjoy and (hopefully) review!**

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><p>Two pairs of feet stood close together, light from the hallway muddling their shadows against the wall close by. The door was still ajar from their haste to get inside, a firm hand pushed with enough force for it to close in something just short of a slam. Giggles came and went, cut off by lips pressing against each other. Soft moans replaced them and breathy little gasps escaped when they parted, one body pressed to the wall in a tight embrace.<p>

The one who had shut the door pulled his soon-to-be lover away from the plaster surface with those same firm hands. More giggles came forth from the pair as they stumbled slightly in the moonlit apartment. They made it to the living room only to fall back onto the couch with a laugh. The furniture gave a mild creak of protest under the sudden weight of its owner as he was pushed back by his companion.

There was a pause. The man lying back looked up, smiled; pale moonbeams shone through the windows onto this pale skin and bright eyes, coloring his black hair and blond bangs a lighter shade. The new, almost but not quite, lover grinned back in answer to the lazy curvature of the other's lips, admiring the sight of the sprawled man before lying a slender frame onto a more well muscled one.

Lips reattached, breathing became heavy yet airless, hands flew across skin and grabbed, tongues caressed. Soft moans became slightly louder, a hand began to slide up a dark tank top to touch the defined abdomen underneath.

The figure under stiffened suddenly at the touch. The breathy sighs and moans halted. The lithe frame on top stopped the long hands and slender fingers that had reached to touch beneath clothed flesh.

"Are you alright?" Soft, quiet, concerned. Afraid to ruin the moment.

But the moment had already been ruined and the spell of the night broken. The man lying back against the couch cushions smiled a sad smile and looked regretfully up into beautiful, wide eyes. With a firm, but gentle touch he brought his slightly calloused hands to those lovely petite shoulders and pushed slightly.

"I'm sorry. I can't." He hated saying it, though he wasn't sure how obvious that was to the other.

The other clenched a lip between teeth. "Was it something-?"

"No." He'd had this conversation before; he knew what the fear was. He knew the next words he'd say all too well. "No, it's a very long story, but it has nothing to do with you. Honestly."

An unconvinced smile, but a nod, lip still between teeth. Once-soon-to-be lover rose and he followed, leading to the door like the gentleman he was. An awkward departure, but one he'd experienced before.

"I'll call you later, alright?" A hesitant nod in return. A quick kiss to his cheek before disappearing down the hallway to the elevator. He watched until the metal doors slid shut with a disturbingly cheerful 'bing!' and shut his own door.

He rested against the door heavily and closed his eyes tight. He bit his lip hard as his face screwed into something not quite sadness or frustration. He wanted to slide to the floor and lie there, but he was well past the age of teenage dramatics. Instead he finally pushed away and slowly made his way back into the moonlit living room, where he fell into a seated position on the couch he had laid on not five minutes ago. He rested his head against the back of the couch, but did not close his eyes again. Instead he stared up at a ceiling being licked by the vague reflection of moonlight, unaware of how the same light had bathed him in an unearthly glow.

"We won't see each other again." Not a question, not even a statement really, more like an affirmation to himself of a simple fact. Despite his earlier words he'd been here all too often before with different men and women.

Even if it had been on his part, his dismissal, the awkwardness had already been cast. The game had been played and he was the loser once more.

How ironic for someone known as the "King of Games".

Though perhaps that was never really his title to begin with, even if he had long since earned it on his own, perhaps the true King was the winner here, the spirit that haunted this place, or seemed to anyway.

"Either you're still here, mou- Atemu, or I'm going crazy." A mirthless, embittered laugh. "I don't even know which one it is."

The unsettling energy migrated from somewhere in the corner to someplace much closer, right next to him possibly. The same presence that had caused him to send his date home tonight and so many others before.

If only, if only.

"Why are you still here, mou- Atemu?" It came out in a mournful sort of whisper even as he cursed himself for his slip of name. It would do no good to encourage the spirit, or whatever he had become, if he was actually here. Atemu needed to move as he had done. As he had started to, anyway.

Something not quite a whisper sort of met the air in his ears. It sounded like _"Aibou"_ but could have just as easily been his mind's wishful thinking or sensory trickery. It was only a sound whispered by something like the wind, there was no voice to whisper his name like that anymore. Or maybe ghosts could speak through some sort of heavy barrier and Atemu was actually screaming the word in his ear. He doubted that if Atemu could still speak he would choose to say such a loaded word so softly.

"Why do you keep doing this mou hitori- Atemu?" Damning himself, that was exactly what this still living being on the couch was doing, damning himself. He cursed his own name.

A feeling of sadness that did not seem to be his own. Regret, apology, pain, shame, hurt, longing. Were they all his or someone else's or a mixture of the two?

The feelings hit him in waves so faint it was hard to determine if the source was truly external or a figment of his own imagination. Yet, despite that, he knew the emotions felt were not felt lightly; rather they were like waves that had traveled a great distance to be transfigured from surging tidal wave to the echoes of force lapping at his feet.

It had not been this way from the beginning. If it had, maybe things would be different. Maybe he never would have made any attempt at all to leave his previous life behind, the one that had revolved around reattaining the memories of the spirit of an ancient puzzle and former pharaoh.

It had hurt right after Atemu left for the afterlife. It had hurt just like the death of any other loved one, regardless of the fact that Atemu had already been physically dead for several thousand years. But he had persevered; he had mourned, he had been wrapped within his grief for a time, but he had not stayed there, living with regret and pain for all eternity. Spending so much time with the one he had called 'mou hitori no boku' had given him the strength, and the pride, to pull himself up and continue on with his life. It had been that thought really, the need to make his 'mou hitori no boku' proud of him, that had been the biggest driving force in his will to carry on.

How ironic. He wondered if Atemu now regretted instilling such strength in his younger charge, his sweet 'aibou'.

Romantic affection had never been openly declared between them in all their time together. He still wasn't sure if it had been because of fear, or lack of necessity, or perhaps because they knew their love was destined to be damned from the very start. Without uttering a word, though, they had both been aware of each other's feelings to at least some extent. Yuugi was certain of that much.

But still, like with the death of any other loved one, family or friend, lover or object of admiration, after the period of grieving, one continues to live on. Never had he forgotten his 'mou hitori no boku', never had he planned on finding someone to take his place or to try and forget the other with, but he was alive, and chose to live. In all aspects of his life.

Two years had gone by before his first true date-date. Perhaps not as shy, but still quite reticent, and unaware as to the methods one uses in the ways of procuring anyone's romantic attention, it of course had not been Yuugi who sought someone out, but was sought out himself instead. It had not been Anzu, as many would have thought, who had left for America after graduation as planned, just a stranger as it were. He had been approached in a game store, thought not his own, and despite his obliviousness to the flirting at hand, had been forwardly asked out on a date. He had said yes. Life moved forward.

Quickly he discovered how confident he could truly be after the initial awkwardness of entering the world of romance. He was charming, but in his gentlemanly kindness and sincerity instead of sweet nothings; he was smart in his own way, clever and insightful certainly; he was fierce in his loyalty, steadfast and true. It hadn't hurt that he seemed to be sexually appealing to members of both genders.

Others liked him, were attracted to him, wanted him. He was not cocky in this knowledge, but accepting; he was no or less desired than most, but desired he was. He moved on from there.

He dated briefly for the most part. One or two failed long term-ish relationships, ending with a good parting of ways. He was amicable, they were amicable. All would go well for a while, but eventually it would become apparent on a conscious or subconscious level that Yuugi held himself at a distance and always would. And then it would be over. But he was fine with that, really. He had assumed that that was how it would always be.

And then it all changed.

It had happened slowly at first, the vague feeling of being watched in an oddly nonthreatening way. The feeling came and went, just subtle enough for him to laugh at himself, yet still persistent enough to mention to Anzu during a late night phone conversation. The two had half-jokingly and half-sincerely agreed that Atemu had continued to watch over Yuugi from the grave, so to speak. It made them both happy in a sense, to say such a thing were possible even if they weren't sure they could believe it in their heart of hearts. Still, it was spoken and yet relatively forgotten. Yuugi had lived with a spirit inside of his own body for so long, it was easy to become used to the odd sensation of being followed, being watched by something unearthly.

He had failed to notice its presence in the company of others until one fateful night.

It had been a pleasant enough date with a pleasant enough girl, both knew that neither was particularly special to the other, but still they had ended up back at the pleasant enough girl's apartment, both slightly inebriated and extremely aroused. Flirtatious touches had led to light kisses and light kisses led to the deep, heavy kisses that demanded moaned utterances. It had been then that Yuugi had become more aware of the sensation of an odd energy, a misplaced feeling. The hair had begun to stand on the back of his neck, and he shivered in something other than desire. His partner had not noticed and he had shoved the unwanted feelings to the background. He had continued on. He had taken the girl to bed. All through their false-love making he had felt anger, jealousy, hurt, for reasons he couldn't fathom. But he had pushed it aside, and that had been that.

The next time it happened it had been even worse. A wonderful night spent with a charming, arrogant, and slightly dangerous young man who reminded him of another. They tumbled into bed and whispered deviant endearments in each other's ears as they explored their bodies through the indecent hours of night. And he had been nearly overwhelmed by those terrible emotions as they had done so.

Anger, jealousy, hurt. They became more and more pronounced.

And here he was now. The feelings so familiar and yet so distant. Potent enough for him to readily believe in their existence, but surreal enough for him to still question his lucidity.

"Why, mou hitori no boku? Why?" He wasn't even sure what question he was asking an answer to. There were too many and they all sort of melded into one. Why was he feeling the presence of his 'mou hitori no boku' melted into why would that presence be there in the first place, and why that presence would be there brought forth the question of why he seemed intent on ruining his 'aibou''s love life and that question only forced him to ask why Atemu, if he really was here, would feel such anger at Yuugi for trying to live his life as he thought Atemu, no 'mou hitori no boku', would have wanted.

He felt a little broken inside.

Perhaps that feeling radiated out to the unseen ghost in the room because next Yuugi felt a new emotion that was not his own hitting him. Sadness, guilt, remorse. The waves felt stronger and stronger. If Atemu truly was a ghost and in his living room he imagined the spirit was hovering right over him, just above or next to the couch.

Yuugi closed his eyes under the weight of the emotional assault. Longing. So much longing. Was that feeling his, or was it Atemu's? Maybe it was both of theirs.

"_Aibou, aibou, aibou..."_ a mournful whisper that was not a whisper; possibly real and possibly not. It sounded sad and so very lonely.

"Mou...At-...mou hitori no boku," he breathed out in a sigh. He was giving in and in the process damning himself to a miserable fate, and he knew it. He knew, yet he couldn't resist. His shoulders dropped with the relief of tension as he let himself fall to temptation.

The otherworldly presence in his room was so strong now, so close. He imagined if he was here, if Atemu or Yami or mou hitori no boku or whoever he chose to be really was here, that he was touching Yuugi with a soft, ghostly caress; the same kind of touch they had once shared when they had once shared a body. Yuugi sighed into the imaginary touch and let the fires of his own internal Hell lick and nip at his mind.

Mild contentedness, care, desire. But nothing could ameliorate the longing.

A blond bang fell to the side, or was it pushed? Yuugi bit his lip.

He knew this couldn't last. He had to move on and let go for good. And mou hitori no boku, no, Atemu, had to move on too and enjoy the afterlife that he, both of them, had fought to attain for the former pharaoh. It wouldn't do either of them any good to stay like this.

They could not mourn forever what had never been.

"Mm-Atemu," he corrected firmly. Apprehension, unease, pain.

"Atemu," he repeated, more softly this time, "If...I...I..." Yuugi stopped to clear his throat, which suddenly felt swollen and constricted with ambivalence. "If you love me...Atemu, mou hitori no boku...maybe, if you love me..."

He stopped again. He took a deep, shuddering breath. He couldn't continue. As much as he knew he needed to, that he should, he just couldn't. He couldn't send Atemu away to eternity again.

For some reason he was certain that the unseen spirit already knew the words that had died on his tongue, but, despite them, still settled over Yuugi in a heavy, suffocating cloud. Half of his heart warmed, half of it chilled.

Yuugi shivered against what might have been a supernatural embrace. The presence stayed.

He would keep trying. There would be other dates, other men and other women he would kiss and touch in the dark of the night. Atemu, real or imagined, present or memorial remnant, would be there too, to meet his embraces with perpetuated agony.

They would dance around each other's will until the end, never quite a fight but a battle all the same. Either Yuugi would cave to the crushing love Atemu's spirit thrust upon him or the pharaoh's presence would finally diminish in light of a love that could never be.

Yuugi's unspoken words remained the barrier between them, one in acceptance and the other in denial.

"_If you love me, Atemu, you should let me go."_

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed and will review!<strong>


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